Shakespeare's Tragedy of Cymbeline

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Harper and brothers, 1884 - 230 páginas
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Página 93 - When daffodils begin to peer, With heigh ! the doxy over the dale, Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year; For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, With heigh ! the sweet birds, O, how they sing! Doth set my pugging tooth on edge ; For a quart of ale is a dish for a king. The lark, that...
Página 101 - O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty ; violets, dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips, and The crown-imperial ; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one ! O, these I lack.
Página 97 - Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way, And merrily hent the stile-a; A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tires in a mile-a.
Página 71 - Hark, hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies ; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes : With every thing that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise : Arise, arise.
Página 20 - I'd have you do it ever : when you sing, I'd have you buy and sell so ; so give alms ; Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too : When you do dance, I wish you A wave o...
Página 187 - Come, come, and sit you down ; you shall not budge ; You go not till I set you up a glass Where you may see the inmost part of you.
Página 121 - Fear no more the frown o' the great, Thou art past the tyrant's stroke ; Care no more to clothe, and eat ; To thee the reed is as the oak : The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
Página 100 - But nature makes that mean; so, o'er that art Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race.
Página 173 - Dangerous conceits are in their natures poisons, Which at the first are scarce found to distaste, But with a little act upon the blood, Burn like the mines of sulphur.
Página 36 - Those rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie Without a monument !) bring thee all this ; Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are none, To winter-ground thy corse.

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